


The Angels Have Camelot

by SamsJam



Category: Doctor Who, Merlin (TV), Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Multi, Superwholin, Threesome - M/M/M, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamsJam/pseuds/SamsJam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters and the Doctor come to the aid of Camelot as a pack of Weeping Angels set their sights on the Once and Future King and his immortal sorcerer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Angels Have Camelot

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: Supernatural, between the season five episodes "Dark Side of the Moon" and "99 Problems"; Doctor Who, between "Voyage of the Damned" and "Partners in Crime"; Merlin, between Series 4 and Series 5
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or stories. 
> 
> inspired by this post: [x](http://dontblinktheangelshavecamelot.tumblr.com/post/43082193740)
> 
> special thank you to my darling betas, [last2dance](http://archiveofourown.org/users/last2dance) , [bast3t](http://bast3t.tumblr.com/), and Louimpala !
> 
> Enjoy!

_**Prologue**_

"Doctor? Was King Arthur real?” asked Rose from under the mass of blankets and pillows, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"What?" blinked the Doctor, hoping he’d heard the question wrong. He propped himself up on his elbow, trying to get a better look at his companion’s face. He’d been convinced she was still asleep.

It had been a taxing few weeks. Rose was still recovering from looking into the time vortex and the Doctor was just getting used to his new body. They had been laying low and their conversations had consisted mainly of discussions about which shop had the best chips or Rose attempting to guess which American pop stars were actually from another planet.  

Rose rolled over to face him. Without any hint of her usual joking smile, she looked him in the eyes and asked again. "King Arthur. Was he real?"

The Doctor took a deep breath to give himself time to think. He hadn’t been ready for that question. This was a sore subject for him. Arthur Pendragon and Merlin (or Emrys, depending on what planet or which century you were in) was a topic he adamantly avoided. The Doctor simply had too many unanswered questions about the legendary king and his sorcerer. He had tried for years to get to Camelot, but was blocked at every turn. If he was honest, his pride didn't like to admit that someone or something had always successfully kept him away.

But this was Rose, and she has been through so much that she deserved some kind of answer.

"Of course he was real! Now let's go have some breakfast" he said and hoped that would be enough to end the conversation. He threw off the blankets, jumped out of bed, and ran out of the room.

"Doctor!" Rose shrieked as she was hit with the sudden chill that only comes from being unceremoniously uncovered. Giggling uncontrollably, she grabbed for the nearest piece of clothing. Her smile faded as her hands landed on an all too familiar leather jacket. She sat down on the edge of the bed and slipped the jacket on even though it was too big.  "I guess it's too big for both of us now," she said softly.

She had been prone to sudden mood shifts since the incident. It was hard for her to wrap her mind around everything, to piece together her own memories and emotions from those of the TARDIS, not to mention the fact that the centuries-old alien she loved had just turned into another person. Wearing the jacket helped. It still smelled like the old Doctor and she could believe that a piece of him was still with her. She couldn’t help but wonder if the other Doctor would have answered her question rather than running away.

With a deep breath, Rose put on a happy face and followed the Doctor’s voice further into the TARDIS. She eventually found him filling the kettle, deep in conversation with himself about the lost moon of Poosh.

"How ‘bout Merlin?" Rose interrupted.

With a somewhat defeated sigh, the Doctor put the kettle down and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't going to get out of having this conversation. "Yes, yes. Greatest sorcerer the universe has ever known. Apparently he’s still around somewhere as an old man waiting for Arthur to rise again. Once and Future King and all that. I know it happens sometime in the 21st century, 24th century and a few other times after that."

"Have you met them? What were they like? Is magic real? Was there really a round table?" Rose pressed.

“Met them? Nah. Met Guinevere. Great woman. Great queen. Don’t believe any of those nasty lies about her cheating on Arthur with that Lancelot fellow. She was a faithful queen until the day she died.”

“But she wasn't Arthur's true love,” Rose replied with an unnerving level of certainty.

The Doctor dropped the kettle onto the counter and took a step closer to Rose, really focusing on her for the first time. “No, no she wasn’t. His heart belonged to another. How did you know that, Rose?”

Rose was uncomfortable under the full scrutiny of the Doctor’s attention. She shrugged. “Obviously, because he was Merlin’s. They were two sides of the same coin.”

The Doctor closed the distance between them, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Rose, tell me. How do you know that?”

“I don’t know, I just do,” she responded sheepishly. “Can we go there next?”

“No,” said the Doctor firmly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know why, but I’ve just never been able to,” The Doctor replied as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Someone's engineered massive temporal anomalies that the TARDIS can’t get through. Think of it like a massive bubble around the whole of Albion that’s only there for the 30 odd years Arthur’s alive. But Rose, what brought this up?”

"I don’t know, I just feel connected to that place and those people. Forget it. Maybe I shouldn’t fall asleep watching old cartoons anymore," she replied with a resigned sigh.

"Probably not," the Doctor agreed and moved to pick up the long forgotten kettle so he could finish filling it. "Maybe I should forget the tea and send you back to bed. Look at you, you're clearly exhausted!"

"I may be exhausted, but at least I'm not a...dollop-head."

"There's no such word," The Doctor laughed. "Describe ‘dollop-head’."

"Two words?" Rose asked as she set her jaw in defiance.

 "Yeah," he grinned.

Then, with a victorious smile she replied, "The Doctor."

* * *

_**Chapter 1**_

“So get this,” said Sam as his brother as he walked into the small Welsh motel room. “Apparently whole families have been disappearing throughout the city. No warning, no packing, but no sign of force. One family even left with dinner on the table. They’re all just gone.”

Dean looked unimpressed as he dropped the bags he had been carrying onto the small round table and practically fell into the nearest chair, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

For a moment, he thought about putting the beers in the mini fridge, but quickly decided that drinking them now would be a more efficient use of his time. Without opening his eyes, he rummaged through the bag until his fist closed around one of the still-cold bottles.

Sam furrowed his brow and watched the scene, waiting for a response. He had hoped that finding a clue about why they had been sent there would lift Dean's spirit, or at least give him something to focus on. As the silence dragged on, he couldn’t help but notice that Dean hadn’t actually opened the beer he’d grabbed. In fact, his brother looked like he was using all his energy to keep breathing. Sam wanted to blame it on the stress from plane flight, or maybe the time difference, but he knew it went deeper than that.

Sam wasn’t used to being put in this situation. It was usually Dean who pushed them to find a case, but lately his brother had no interest in hunting. In fact, it seemed as if he wasn't interested in anything at all. Dean had wanted to ignore this case altogether, which was strange because he usually jumped at any chance to work with the Doctor.

When the Winchesters received a cryptic phone message from the Doctor that told the brothers to meet him in Cardiff as soon as possible, it had been Sam who forced his brother to go. They had learned from past experience that when the Timelord called, it was always important. Dealing with vague instructions was just part of the package.

Sam looked away from his brother and back down at the computer screen, taking a deep breath he said, “Hey Dean. Families. Disappearing. Any thoughts?”

At the sound of his brother’s voice, Dean opened his eyes and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“You really think that's why the Doctor made us fly our asses across the world? People pulling a Houdini?" Dean snapped, as he turned his head and made eye contact with his brother.

Sam was taken aback by the thinly veiled anger in his brother’s eyes.

"I don't know Dean. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to find so far” scowled Sam as he shut his laptop and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Come on Sammy, you can’t be serious? There must be hunters here that could handle this. What about those Torchwood guys?”

At the mention of Torchwood, Sam froze. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath to try and control a sudden surge of anger.

“You know we’re not bringing Torchwood into this. They only handle extraterrestrial threats.”

“Right...they get tribbles and Yoda and we’re stuck with all the homegrown crazies. ” said Dean in an attempt to lighten the mood. The small smirk on his face faded when he noticed Sam’s tightened jaw and rigid posture. Dean he reached into the bag and pulled out another beer. He quickly opened them both, and he offered one to his brother, adding, "Come on Sam, just forget it, we don’t need those jacked up UFO chasers.”

Sam’s shoulders relaxed as he sank further into his chair, taking a long drink. Dean mirrored his brother and leaned back in his chair as well, the beer lingering on his lips as he took his first drink.

“Someday you're going to have to tell me what happened between you and that Captain. It must have been - ”

“Shut up Dean.” said Sam to cut him off. He was getting tired of putting on a happy face for his brother. Sam felt the last bits of his composure slip away as anger took its place.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a snort from his brother a few moments later.

“On second thought, maybe we should go find them. It’s been awhile since you’ve had any man-on-man action” Dean smirked, adding in a few hip thrusts for emphasis. He always loved watching his brother squirm, especially since it had been Sam who insisted on getting on that plane without even taking the time to find out if it was going to be worth it.

Sam’s frown deepened as got out of his chair and faced his brother, “Seriously Dean? Are we really going to go there?”

Dean’s jaw tightened as he turned to look out the window.

“Shut it, Sam,” he warned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You brought this up!” Sam countered. He threw his hands in the air and began pacing around the cramped hotel room, “Come on Dean. I’m not the only one who’s tense around here. Cas still not answering your late night ‘prayers’?”

He stopped in his tracks as soon as the words left his mouth. All he could do was watch as a wave of pain washed over his brother’s face.

At the sight of his brothers pain, Sam's anger drained away and he collapsed back into his chair.

He picked up the bottle again, unsure of what to say to break the pained tension that filled the room.

It had been months since either of them had heard a word from Castiel. Not since they had returned from Heaven with the knowledge that God had turned his back on the world. Not since Cas had left without a word and Dean lost all faith in stopping the apocalypse.

Sam knew that out of everything that had happened, and everything was destined to happen in the coming months it was actually Cas’ abrupt exit that had shaken them the most. Without the Winchesters realizing it, Castiel had become an essential part of their lives, Dean’s most of all. Sam could be sure what the extent of their relationship was, but he knew that they had deep but unresolved feelings for one another.

After a long moment, Sam finally broke the silence and sat up in his chair. He turned to face his brother and said quietly, “Damn it. I’m sorry Dean. I shouldn’t have mentioned him. I know you’re worried, I’m worried too. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

Without looking at his brother, pursed his lips and shrugged before he tipped his bottle back and finished it  in three deep pulls. Throwing his bottle into the rubbish bin, he grabbed his coat and began walking towards the door.

“You said something about disappearances?” he said over his shoulder.

“Yeah”

“You got addresses?”

“Yeah”

“Let’s go”

“Yeah” responded Sam as he finished his own beer and followed his brother out of the hotel room.

* * *

Three houses and four hours later, the Winchesters were at a total loss. They had just finished at the third house and were sitting in a small blue rental car. Dean rested his head on the steering wheel while he waited for Sam to arrange his legs in the far too small car.

A hint of a smile flashed across his lips as watch his brother struggle out of the corner of his eye. After making him leave his Baby in long term parking back in the states, he couldn’t help but think that Sam was getting what he deserved. His mood quickly darkened again when he looked at the window and saw that it had started to rain.

“Awesome” he muttered under his breath.

Sam stopped fidgeting and looked over at his brother. His eyes momentarily flashed with concern, but it quickly faded when he realized it was just Dean whining again. He turned back to look at the house they had just left and Sam felt what was left of his optimism fade away. He had had high hopes in finding something that would raise Dean’s spirits. But with each house, his brother’s mood darkened further.

There was nothing, supernatural or otherwise, to suggest why these families had disappeared. Each family appeared to be completely normal; normal homes, normal cars, normal lives filled with normal jobs and normal schools. It had been fairly easy to rule out the possibility that they had simply gone on vacation without letting anyone know. The brothers searched the homes from top to bottom, the drawers were still full of clothes with suitcases stored in the closet, their mailboxes and inboxes were overflowing with unchecked mail but none of it was threatening or angry.

“We have to be missing something” Sam sighed, as he tried once again to readjust his legs in the far too small car. “Maybe there’s some connection between the families?”

Dean cocked his head and scratched the stubble on his chin, “We know that none of them worked together, their kids went to different schools, they didn’t talk to the same people.What’s left?”

“I don’t know Dean.” Sam conceded as he turned away from the house. When he locked eyes with his older brother his frown deepened slightly as he tried to think of what to say next.

After a moment he reached into the back seat to grab the map, saying, “Maybe we’ll find something at the last house, it should be about 40 minutes outside the city. We should be there soon.”

Dean quirked his eyebrows and turned the car on. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the pitiful noise of the weak engine.

_We’ll be home in a few days_ he thought as he pulled into traffic and headed towards the edge of the city.

* * *

“Where the hell are we?” Dean growled when they reached another dead end. The small tree lined road they had turned down had abruptly come to an end only meter after they'd turned of the main road, just like the three roads they'd tried.

Sam didn’t need to look at his brother to know that he was barely containing his frustration. Instead he kept his head down and grabbed the map again. He furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out where they’d gone wrong again.

He gave his brother an apologetic smile and replied, “I don’t know. Somewhere in Wales.”  

The pair had been driving in circles for hours. Sam couldn’t tell if their uncanny ability to find their destination had suddenly vanished, or something was trying to stop them from finding the last house. Sam had to admit that he initially liked the scenery, but the seemingly never-ending winding roads, trees, green fields and hedgerows had begun to lose their charm. After what seemed like the fifth time they’d driven through the same forest, both of the brothers were at their breaking point.

When the car reached the main road, Dean looked at his brother for directions. To their right was the way they’d originally come. Dean could almost see where the trees began to thin, indicating the way out of the forest. This direction would presumably take them back towards Cardiff and their hotel room. To their left the forest grew darker and more wild.

As Dean began to turn the car to the right, he felt his brother stiffen. He stopped the car with a sigh and turned to look back at his brother.

“This is stupid, Sam! Let’s forget this and go find something to eat. We’ll just wait for the Doctor instead of wasting our time on this wild goose chase.”

“There’s only one left. There’s a better chance that there will be something there, they were only reported missing yesterday.” Sam countered.

Sam set his jaw and locked eyes with his brother, as of daring him to argue, and said, "Just turn left. It should be up here, just past a lake.”

Dean rolled his eyes and turned up the radio but didn't argue. He readjusted his grin on the steering wheel and turned left onto the far too small road.

Just as Sam had said, before long the trees on their right broke and they came upon a lake. Sam glanced at his brother and quirked his eyebrows, giving him a brief "I told you so" smile.

But it quickly faded, there was something out of place about the lake that Sam couldn’t articulate. He came to the conclusion that it was because, despite the constant drizzle there was a bank of thick fog that encircled the lake. He kept his observations to himself and was happy when they had made it to the other side. But when there was no road to turn down Sam frowned and looked back down at the map.

 “I may have been looking at the wrong lake.” He said sheepishly.

 “Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled as he turned the rental car around. “We’ve been driving for hours, where is the damn house?”

 “Pull over, let’s ask this person.” Sam said, as he pointed to a hunched figure at the edge of the lake with his back to the road. As they got closer, they realized it was an old man with long white hair.

“Where did he come from?” Dean asked as he stopped the car, and started rolling down the window.

Before Sam had a chance to respond, Dean leaned out the window and yelled, “Hey! Can you help my idiot little brother read a map.”

At the sound of Dean's voice the old man straightened his shoulders and turned around. He began walking forward, but stopped mid-step. His expression never changed, but his eyes shone bright with surprise.

“Hey Gandalf? any help?” Dean asked again.

At that, the old man broke into a harsh cackle that perfectly fit his weathered appearance. When he finally stopped laughing, he gave the brothers another appraising look before heading over to the car window.  

“You have no idea how fitting that name is, boy.” growled the stranger, “if it’s directions you need, just say so.”

Despite their somewhat rocky introduction, the man got them sorted out and heading in the right direction.

“Thank you for all of your help” said Sam.

“It was nothing. I’m sure you’ll repay the favor someday,” said the old man as a small pained smile crept across his face. “Good luck finding whatever it is you’re looking for, or maybe it will find you.”

Patting the roof of the car, he turned away from the brothers and began walk back towards the lake bed again.

“That was weird,” Dean said with a shrug as he rolled up the window.

As the car pulled away, Dean couldn’t help but feel sorry for the way he’d treated the old man. He watched through the rearview as the man stared out into the lake, shoulders hunched once more.

* * *

It took them another hour to backtrack and make it to the final house just as the sun was beginning to set. From the road, the house itself was entirely unremarkable with the exception of a large garden that had been allowed to grow wild. The brothers got out of the car and made their way to the back door.

Dean was so focused on maneuvering across the uneven path that he was halfway down the path before he noticed the four angel statues that lined the left side walkway. When he noticed them, he raised pulled out his flashlight. He directed the beam at the nearest statue and shivered when he noticed that they were all in identical position, with their wings raised and faces in their hands.

Sam raised an eyebrow and took a step closer. Reaching out, he ran a finger along the edge of the nearest statues wing. The stone was cold beneath his fingers but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled the EMF meter and waved it over the statues. When the meter didn’t respond, he frowned and looked at his brother.

“That’s not even what angels look like,” Dean muttered as he patted one on the head.

Sam shrugged and the pair turned and made their way to the back door.

Even in the dark, it was quick work picking the lock. As they entered the house, Dean shot one last glance over his shoulder. His eyes briefly fell on the four statues before he closed the door.

When they entered the house, the brothers went into autopilot, splitting up to finish the search as quickly as possible. Sam stationed himself in front of the computer in the living room while Dean began an EMF sweep.  

Dean followed him into the living room and was instantly struck the feeling that he was wasn’t alone, that he was being watched. Whether it was from the dark shadows being cast by the fading light through the windows, the floorboards creaking with every step or both, Dean couldn’t tell. He quickly shrugged the feeling off as he readjusted his grip on his flashlight. He moved quickly around the simply furnished room, stopping in his tracks when he reached the far corner. He was face to face with another statute identical to those in the garden  

“Who would want this in their living room?” muttered Dean as he waved the EMF meter over the angel’s face.

Dean turned around and took the stairs up to the upper level and searched the bedroom. Like the dining room, there were angel statues tucked into the corner of every room. Dean abandoned the EMF meter and began looking at the various statues. Unlike those in the garden, the statues in the house were in a wide variety of poses. The angel in the first bedroom was looking over the top of her fingers. In the second bedroom, it was looking down at its hands smiling. In the third room the angel was reaching out, hand raised toward the door.

“Sammy! There’s nothing here! No sulfur, no blood, no claw marks, no freaking sign of anything!” Dean exclaimed as he walked down the stairs and into the living room. “It’s just another empty house, but this time it’s full of some ugly ass angel statues”

When he made it back to the living room, he saw Sam still sitting at the computer.

“Hey Sammy? Was that statue always there?” Dean asked as pointed his flashlight at a pair of statues in the far corner. He would have sworn that there had been only one one when he first swept the room.

“Of course it was. Are you suggesting they are demon statues that can somehow make people disappear?”

“Come on, you have to admit they’re creepy. I just don’t want to turn my back on them.”

“Seriously Dean?” Sam asked, his eyes never leaving the computer screen. “I’m almost done here, did you sweep that room, over there?”

In the darkness Dean hadn’t noticed the door along the far wall. Really, he had no idea how Sam had seen it at all, considering it was almost completely hidden in the shadows not to mention the fact that his back was to it.

“Stop whining. Just go take a look and we’ll get out of here,” Sam sighed.

“Damn it, Sam.”

The room was larger than Dean had expected and was completely empty, as if the family had been renovating the space. The right side of the room was dominated by a large window that looked out onto the garden. As Dean walked closer he noticed that it had been left open and was letting in the rain and a draft of cold air. Shivering, he shrugged and continued to sweep the room.

When he reached the far wall, Dean realized that he’d found what they had been searching for all day. As he ran his flashlight beam across the wall, he noticed that the wallpaper was peeling, and something had been written underneath. He tucked his flashlight into his pocket, grabbed a loose corner and pulled to reveal the word “Beware.” He continued to pull, this time grabbing a bigger section. He kept pulling until he could read the message, “Beware the Weeping Angels” scrawled onto the wall.He stepped back towards the center of the room to get a good look at the entire wall.

“Hey Sammy, come look at this,” Dean yelled over his shoulder. As the words left his mouth, his eyes fell on two statues in the previously unoccupied space near the door that lead into the living room.

Dean began slowly walking forward, never taking his eyes off the statues.

“Sam! Get your ass in here!” Dean yelled, this time his voice thick with a mixture of command and apprehension.

He could hear his brother running through the living room, but the sound of stone scraping against stone drew his attention. He turned his head just in time to see another angel directly behind him, only inches away. Dean turned and flung himself at toward the other side of the room, putting his back to the window. When he looked up again, there were three statues in a line in front of him, all with their arms outstretched and identical smiles on their stone faces.  

“Dean!” Sam yelled as he ran into the room, flashlight held like a club. He stopped in his tracks and stood unblinking at the scene in front of him.

“Sam. Get out of here. Find the Doctor” Dean said in a quiet tone that left no room for argument, his eyes never leaving his brother.

Dean felt a draft of cold air drift across the back of his neck that could only mean that the window behind him had somehow opened further. Before he could turn around, he felt a cold hand press into his spine. He had just enough time to register the wave of terror wash over his little brother’s face before the world faded into nothingness.

 


End file.
